Lighting a Fire
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Ender taking command of Dragon Army had made it the most successful unit in Battle School. And as worried as Anderson was about the boy's well being, he had to admit, there was a certain irony at play here.


**Lighting a Fire**

"Colonel."

"Major."

Greetings by rank. Anderson supposed that was the norm to be expected at Battle School. But at least most of the time Graff had given him the courtesy of actually looking at him when he uttered the words.

"Another match I see."

Graff grunted, his eyes fixed on the battle room as he looked out through the observation port.

"Dragon Army again? Isn't that the second match today?"

"Third," Graff murmured.

"And the army?"

"Leopard."

"Oh." Anderson watched the light show, as red-uniformed children exchanged fire with yellow-uniformed children. "How's Dragon doing?"

"Excellent. As usual." Graff folded his arms. "We need to keep the pressure on Anderson. If we want our fleet leader we can't let him think that the real battles are going to be as easy as this."

"Easy?" Anderson looked at Graff. "I know Wiggin's excelling, but-"

"We're past the point of worrying about fairness, or well-being, or anything else bar the invasion," Graff said. His eyes ever on the battle room, or occasionally drifting towards a holographic display that recorded points, Leopard so far having to gain a single one. "We keep Wiggin busy. He'll win, because he has to win. But he's going to earn those victories."

"Sir, that-"

"Victory, Anderson," Graff said, walking forward for a closer view. "It's all the Hegemon's concerned with. It's all Wiggin's concerned with. And it should be all that we're concerned with at all." He glanced at him, the first time he'd done so in the conversation. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes," Anderson murmured, deciding to not point out the effects of stress, sleep deprivation, and physical exhaustion right now. "Of course you are."

Graff grunted and returned his gaze to the battle. Anderson knew that was his cue to leave. But still he lingered. Graff was right, he knew that. The International Fleet needed its commander, and it needed that commander to be able to take whatever the formics threw at him. But that didn't make it any easier to accept.

"Funny thing about Dragon, isn't it?" Anderson asked

Making small talk was part of the attempt to soothe his conscience though.

"Its game record," the major continued. "No recorded wins until Wiggin takes command, then all of a sudden it's on top of the scoreboard."

Graff remained silent.

"Was that part of the idea?" Anderson asked. "Do you think Wiggin should fight against a jinx as well?"

"I don't believe in stuff like that," Graff said.

"Then why reactivate Dragon Army? Why not give him a new one?"

"Because Wiggin doesn't need favours. The universe doesn't give you favours Major. The universe gives you invading buggers that you have to exterminate to guarantee the future of the human race."

"Right," Anderson said. He watched as two Leopards were taking out of action, the Dragons so far having suffered zero losses. "Dragon. Kinda fitting isn't it?"

Graff remained silent.

"I mean, in a way, humanity's the proverbial dragon. When the formics first invaded, we were still organized along national lines. The formics ended up bringing us together."

"You been watching historical vids again?" Graff murmured.

"No, but I remember them," Anderson continued. "Then you've got the Second Invasion. We defy the odds, we prove that humanity can fight and win in space."

"Your point?" Graff murmured. Three Leopards were taken out as he did so.

"Well, humanity's the proverbial dragon isn't it?" Anderson asked. "The formics woke us up, so to speak. We've gone from terrible losses on Earth to the position of mastering interstellar travel. Of sending warships to the formic homeworld with the capability of destroying it." His voice lowered. "And last I heard, with the intent as well."

"Does that bother you?" Graff asked. The last of the Leopards were taken out.

"The buggers? No. The men and women on those ships? Yes. And as the school's psychologist, that includes the cadets who'll be commanding from Eros."

"Fine," Graff said. "That's good to know." He turned to face Anderson. "Because Dragon will need to do better if those men and women are going to have a chance of surviving."

"Do better? It wasted Leopard."

"With a casualty," Graff said, gesturing to the scoreboard. Anderson raised an eyebrow – one Dragon had been hit.

"We need to amp up the game," Graff said. "I'm going to pit two armies against Dragon."

"Two?" Anderson blurted out. "That's-"

"What, Major?" Graff snapped. "Unfair? Unorthodox?"

Anderson paused, before saying, "you could say that."

"You're right. I could. And I won't. Because Wiggin's the best cadet in this school, and Dragon is the best army. And that still won't count for much because by all indications the formics outnumber us, and don't even have the concept of 'playing fair.'" He cleared his throat. "Make it happen Major."

Anderson remained silent. Part of him wanted to object. But only part. And that was what scared him. Because at the end of the day, Graff was right. Wiggin was the best cadet Battle School had ever seen. Dragon's winning streak was unmatched in the school's history. Wigging would likely command the largest, most powerful fleet of human warships ever constructed from Eros.

And against the formics…that could account for nothing.

"Yes Sir," the major said, saluting and leaving. "I'll make it happen."

It seemed, Anderson reflected, that a dragon of another kind had been woken.


End file.
